Matching Scars
by Loveallthenerdiness
Summary: Jo's back, with a more than interesting resurrection story, and a few agendas set by her savior, including resolving her muddled relationship with the one and only Dean Winchester.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys, sorry for this "false" chapter. It was a weird glitch with my server I guess. Go on to chapter 2 for the start of the story! Let me know if you like it! And please comment :)I'd love to hear from you all!


	2. Crushing Memories

Dean shuttered with the thoughts swimming through his head, the ones that broke him down. He sat hunched on the corner of the bed, too distraught to lay down, but legs too weak to stand up. He let his face fall into his hands, hot tears smushed betweenthe  
skin. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see. Sobs tore up his throat and forced their way out of his dry mouth. Images rushed through his brain untamed, torture in its most primitive state.

A smiling face. Bright teeth and round cheeks. Wavy blonde hair. Pale skin with bursting full lips. 

_"I could help._ "

Dean chomped down onto his lip, blood squirting onto his tongue. Even that blast of pain couldn't keep him away from the guilt that resurfaced. He trembled with the force of the tears. It washis fault she'd gotten into hunting. His problems that  
had led her to her death. His. All his fault.

 _"Guy screwed up, got my dad killed. It was your father, Dean."_

His heart broke all over again, seeing the tears brimming in her bright brown eyes, the hurt, the betrayal painted on her clear face as it all flashed across his closed eyelids. And hehadn't said anything. Even as those early blossoming feelings  
stuttered through his chest, he hadn't run after her.

 _"Sweetheart, if this is our last night on Earth, then I'm going to spend it with a little thing called self-respect."_

He'd let her walk away. He'd just drank his beer and thought about her ass but didn't do anything. Didn't tell her about the burning in his chest, the breathlessness that always followed whenshe entered a room. Even though he had known, he HAD KNOWN  
that there would never be another chance to tell her, though he wished with everything that he could've protected her.

 _"Everything we need… To build a bomb."_

the words, even now, ripped through him like scissors through paper. He remembered the denial that had spread through him, the pleads with hell at the beginning to trade her places. But shewas going to die. It had been impossible to avoid. So Dean  
had lied to himself. Said in his mind that he barely knew her, she was just a stranger. He was haunted by the coldness he'd put off as he made that bomb. Trying to detach himself becausehe couldn't loose another loved one. He'd never said it.  
Hadn't touched her or kissed her. Somehow he'd tried to convince him self that that meant it wasn't real. That he didn't really love her.

Anguished ate through the inside of Dean's body. He fell to the floor, knees cracking against the hard ground. He pounded his clenched hand into the thin carpet while thetears spilled downhis nose onto his flying fist.

 _"You know, I've had it up to here with your crap."_

 _"You're afraid of my mother?"_

 _"Would you sit down please?"_

 _"Damn right, REO. Kevin Cronin sings from the heart."_

Dean's outraged fit slowed, and he pressed his palms flat on the floor, his hand throbbing where it'd been beat. The tears didn't stop. They rolled down his face in hot parades as the scenes played out in his mind. Shehad been so animated, such  
a unique personality. He couldn't have prevented the fall. The memorieswere so vivid it felt like he was living them all over again, which cut away at his heartstrings.

The last time he saw her caressed his brain. He'd taken her dirty, sweaty face in his hands, and he'd broke. Everything he'd felt for her came rushing up and he couldn't stop himself. He'd presseda kiss to her when he'd pulled  
back, and looked into her eyes, the light fading, he'd known that thatwould never be enough. He had to show her what he felt, because there was no way in hell he'd be able to get them out of his mouth. So he'd kissedheron the the  
lips, like he should've done the night before, the week before, the year before. And he'd held onto that kiss because it was his life, dying in his hands. Her lips had been so soft, bendable underneath his harsh ones. He remembered how damnHARD  
it was rip himself away from her, andleave her todie without him.

He remembered the explosion that obliterated his world. 

_Jo. Oh Jo. I'm so sorry_ , his heart cried.

A tremor rippled through Dean's body. He hated this night, hated everything it made him remember, hated everything it stood for. This was the day he'd failed to protect Jo. The day he'd kissed her and still didn't saythe words and walked away even  
as she died. This day marked one of his biggest failures. Jo's death day, the day whenhell raised to torture Dean all over again.

A knock came at the locked motel door.

"Dammit Sam I told you I needed some time!" Dean yelled, his voice hoarse. The anger mixed with the thousands of other feelings caused agut wrenching pain.

There was a softer knock, and then a voice came, muffled through the door. "Dean?"

Dean froze, every muscle in his body tensing. _Holy hell_. He was going crazy, or the thoughts of her and the fact that it was the day she died was screwing with his brain. She was dead. He'dwatched her die. He'd been the reason she died. There  
was no way she was at that door.

"Dean, is that you?" the voice came again.

His will shattered. If she was really here...He shot up, racing to the door, his legs trembling underneath him, heart pounding like he was at the height of a hunt. He fumbled with the locks in his hurry to get them turned,then shoved open the door.

"Jo." Her name came out in a whoosh of unbelieving breath. Because it was her, in the flesh. Alive, healthy, standing at Dean's doorway.

The petit hunter smiled up at him with those perfect teeth, her blonde hair shimmering. "Hi,Dean."


	3. Is this really you

Dean stared. He waited for her beautiful eyes to go black, for her to shed her skin or something, anything. Maybe she was a ghost, though she wasn't nearly pale enough. She looked so alive.

Still, when she took a step forward he stumbled back, snatching his holy water flask. He spun the top off and recklessly threw the contents at Jo, who just sputtered and looked at him in confusion.

 _Thank God: she's not a demon_. The relief lasted only seconds though and a new paranoia rose as her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed.

"Dean-" she started.

He whipped out his silver knife and grabbed her wrist. Thoughts spinning. Heart pounding. She'd been gone so long there was no way in hell she'd been brought back. This had to been some awful, terrible joke some monster was trying to pull. Maybe an actual  
trickster or just another angel who liked sick pranks. Angels were dicks after all.

Jo's eyes widened as he pulled her arm straight. Her scared eyes flicked to the knife then up at Dean's eyes. "What the hell are you-"

Even though his heart squeezed, Dean brought the Blade down across her forearm, trying to be as careful as he could with trembling hands. She still flinched, ripping her arm out of his grasp,but it didn't burn. Dean stared down at her for another  
second and he realized. It was Jo. It wasn't a demon, or a shapeshifter, or a ghost. It was really her, alive, standing in front of him. Back from the dead like he'd never everimagined was possible. All those feelings he'd pushed down over the years,  
the emotions that only came up on her death anniversary, bubbled through his chest, stronger then they had all night. He surged forward, wrapped the little form in his big arms, andburied his face into her soft hair. Her thin arms snaked around his  
waist while he breathed her in, everything that was Jo that he had missed so damn much.

"Gawd its so good to hold you," he mumbled into her ear. He bent down and pressed his lips to her neck, then nuzzled his face into her shoulder. His insides melted for her, every bonein his body aching for Jo

like he'd never experienced. Even when he'd lost Lisa after a full year of loving her unrestrained, he hadn't felt this longing: one that sunk into the deepest parts of his soul, pulsing to have her closer. He Tightenedhis grip aroundher likeshe  
would disappear if she were a centimeter further from him. Jo's head weighed against his chest. Rising and falling with every breath he took. He never wanted weight on his chest, but right then he couldn't imagine breathing without it.

"You too, Dean," she responded, rubbing her thin fingers across his back. "I've missed you."

He smiled against her warm skin. He thought about telling her now, could feel the word forming in his mouth. Waiting would be a mistake. He knew that, because if he'd learned anything, it was thattomorrow wasa myth and all they had was the  
present. Then, Suddenly, Dean's head was pulled into reality, and he stepped back, out of her embrace, away from the hug. She had no idea how he felt. No one did. He couldn't just tell her while she wasjust barely out of wouldn't  
believe him, she'd most likely be offended, if anything. So he focused on keeping the raging emotions off of his face while He shrugged his shoulders, glancing at her eyes before focusing on the window behind her left shoulder.

"How-how're you here?" He asked, his voice surprisingly calm considering how clogged his throat was.

Her pink lips curled in a small smile. "I don't know if you'd believe me if I told you."

Dean's eyebrows raised and he nodded, finally catching her eye. "Me either. I'm having trouble believing you're even here."

She shrugged, stuffing her small hands into the pocket of her so familiar green jacket. "I get that. I've been gone a long time."

Dean snorted. "More than a long time." He made sure all of her attention was on him as he took a step forward and murmured, "A life time, Jo."

She flushed, but didn't break eye contact. Not Jo. She was never one to back down. For a moment they stood staring at each other in silence as she digested those words and Dean wondered if he'dactually said them, and whether or not he regretted  
them.

Jo snapped out of it first, pushing the underlying current away for another time. She gave him a cheeky smile "I'm glad to see you didn't die on me, Dean, or else it would've sucked to come back."

Dean actually forced out a harsh laugh. "Oh, I died. I just came back."

Jo frowned. "Oh." She shuffled, eyes falling to her shoes. "I guess those weren't stories. I'd always hoped they were."

Dean matched Jo's downturned lips, putting his own hands into his jean pockets. He felt sick to his stomach and on top of the world at the same time. It resulted in a headache that was formingat the back of words set him on edge. Stories?  
About him, maybe? About Castiel? Dean was so exhausted he couldn't think straight, but he tried to focus. "What weren't stories?"

Jo flinched. Barely, almost not at all, but Dean caught it. His worry deepened. He stepped towards her again, pulling his hands out but keeping them uncomfortably by his side. They itched to reach outto her, but hecouldn't get himself to do  
it. "What is it Jo?"

"It's nothing. Not important." She flashed another smile to him. "So… Where's Sam?"

Dean's eyebrows knitted together. He didn't want to drop the previous subject, but if Jo was still Jo, pushing her wouldn't do anything. So he let it slide for the moment. "He's…out."

Jo's eyebrows shot up, and she put her hands on her hips. "Out?"

A fire lit in Dean's chest. He'd forgotten what a turn on her defiant attitude was. He couldn't help but laugh at it. "Yeah. I needed some time alone, so he's tracking down leads for acase."

Jo smirked. "You needed some Time alone? Since when, Mr. Winchester? Last I remember, you two were practically joined at the hip."

Dean couldn't deny that. He sat on the edge of the bed, too tired to stand. "It's complicated."

To his relief, Jo came a and sat by him. "Really?"

Dean agreed with his eyes. "Just like everything else in my miserable life."

"Oh Dean." Jo touched her hand to his knee, causing fire to shoot up his leg. "I'm sorry."

Dean closed his eyes, focusing on her touch. "Don't. I don't… I'm the one who's sorry, Jo," he finally forced out, opening his eyes and turning his gaze back to her.

Jo sighed, exasperated. "I knew this would happen." She squeezed his knee. "Dean, my death was not your fault. You need to know that. You did everything you could."

Dean couldn't get himself to agree. His hands clenched together as he fought back more tears. "You're wrong." His fight didn't work, and a single tear fell down his face. He couldn't face hernow as the guilt

threatened to crush him. He turned his face away."I failed you, Jo. I let you die."


	4. Please No Guilt

Dean hated himself for crying, hated that he was crying while she was there to watch him. But it'd either been cry orkiss her (his stupid, uncontrollable emotions were determined to get out somehow), and he'd rather her know he was guilty.

Jo didn't accept it. She glided her smooth hand to his rough face. He leaned into it like he had those years ago when she'd been called by Osiris, closing his eyes. The darkness was so much easier to existinthan the reality he mistakes  
hewas forced to face. The ones she didn't even know about. The ones that ate him up inside every second of every day.

"Hey, look at me," she whispered, pressing against his cheek, gently guiding his face backtowards her. Reluctantly, he looked up at her, catching her dark brown gaze. His heart jumped:He'd forgotten how beautiful her eyes were. And now, witheverything  
she'd been through, they were deep. Dean found himself falling into them, thinking that he could definitely live his life looking into those deep dark eyes.

 _You're no good for her._

The thought fell through his brain and stuck like a nasty virus. Even as she smiled at him, her sweet, cheeky smile, he felt dirty for letting her touch him. Yet, he couldn't get himself to pull away.

 _"_ You didn't let me die, Dean," she insisted. She took her other hand off his knee andcupped his face.

His throat burned. Gosh, she brought out all the chick-flick moments in him. He hated it. Being exposed like he was right then was something he'dnever wanted to be. All his life was _don't let them in, don't let them see it hurts. Laugh it off._ Staring  
IntoJo's eyes, though, the dead girl he'd loved for years, those walls he'd built so high began to tumble.

"After that hellhound attacked me,You carried me like I was the only thing that mattered." Jo laughed at herself. "At least that's how it felt."

 _That's exactly how it was, Jo._ But he sure as hell wasn't goingto admit that. He couldn't.

"You were the first to argue the bomb idea." She shrugged. Dean feltit in her fingers that stillheld him close. At the reminder of the bomb, he choked, and brought a hand up to cover one of Jo's. He mixed their fingers together, feeling his ownscratcy  
face, though he focused on the delicate skin of the back of Jo's hand as his palm rested against it. His throat burned"Jo..."

"Shut it Dean, it's my turn," she interrupted jokingly, still smiling. Dean obeyed, but he was sure as hell wasn't smiling.

"You didn't force me to help you that day," sheinsisted. "Hell, I don't even remember you asking. I just _did._ So don't you dare go on feeling like it's your fault I died, orI Swear I'll kick your ass."

Dean laughed. It came rolling offhis tongue, so unnaturally natural it almost scared him. You know, if Dean got scared. Which he didn't.

They looked at each other for a moment longer, and that's when Joseemed to realize she was still holding Dean's faceand her hands jumped away from him. Dean's own hand fell to his lap. He felt strangely... Empty, cold without her hands on  
him. But he pushed the feeling away, and plastered a sloppy smile on his face.

"I'd like to see you try," he jested.

She bumped his shoulder. "Ha. I picked up a few things in Hell. I could take you down so fast,Winchester."

 _Hell? Oh God, please tell me you didn't send her to Hell._ Dean kept the thoughts off his face, out of his voice. "Me too, Harvelle." He grinned. "And don't forget who's been hunting since they were seven."

"Ah, but I'm a fast learner."

Dean's smiled widened just a little bit. "You have to be taught to learn."

She raised one light eyebrow, capturing his eyes. "You gonna teach me?"

Dean sucked in his breath, insides burning with desire. _Oh there's a couple things I wanna teach you Jo Harvelle._

The door to the motel room opened. "Dean-" Sam stop mid-stride, mouth hanging open from his sentence, door still moving from his entrance. His eyes widened until they were saucers in his head. " _Jo?"_

She smiled, but didn't stand, and gave Dean's little brother a small wave. "Hey there Sam."


	5. Interruption

Dean was afraid Sam's lower jaw was going to fall off. He stood up carefully, approaching his brother like an easily-spooked animal. "Sammy, I know it's insane, but-"

Sam's mouth clamped shut and then his eyes narrowed. Dean groaned, realizing what his brother was thinking, and a second later Sam went off.

"She's a shapeshifter-"

"No, Sam-"

"Then a ghoul, or-or a demon-"

"Sam," Jo interjected, coming to stand by Dean. "It's me. I swear to God, on heaven and hell, that it's me."

"You know who says that?" Sam shuffled his large body angrily. "Demons. Your word means nothing."

Dean frowned. "Hey, hey cool it down-"

"Cool it down?" Sam yelled indignantly.

"She's been alone withme for almost a half hour, and I'm alive, Sam. It's her," Dean promised.

Jo smiled shyly. "It's me, Sam."

Sam rocked back on his heels, seeming to finally accept it. "Jo? How the hell..." He broke into a smile, opening his long arms for a hug. "How the hell're you here?"

Jo accepted his hug. "That's a tale for another time. Just be glad I'm back."

Sam gave Dean a questioning look over Jo's blonde head. _What happened?_ He just shrugged. _She didn't tell me._

 __

They separated, and Dean had the sudden urge to grab her hand and pulled her back towards him. His eyes flicked involuntarily down and back up as he snatched a glance at her hand, wondering what it would feel like to hold it.

"Enjoying the view?" Jo asked snarkily, smirking back at him.

Dean knitted his eyebrows together, temporarily confused. Sam had his eyebrowsraised at him. _Oh._ Dean flashed a smile, not saying anything. They could think what they wanted. After that, silence thundered through the room. Dean wanted nothing  
more than for Sam to march back out the motel's door, but didn't want to kick him out. Him and Jo shouldn't be alone, but _gosh_ did he want to be alone with her, he wanted to touch her, finally tell her...

"Anyways..." Sam started. "Dean, I got a lead on-"

"I need tonight with Jo," Dean blurted. The words plopped out of his mouth, surprising him just as much as the other two people in the room. He glanced at Jo's astounded face, then back at his brother's incredulous one. "I mean, we have a lot to talk  
about, and I just need to talk to her. I need tonight to forget about the cases and focus on Jo."

Both pairs ofeyebrows rose higher. Dean focused on Sam. He was the easiest. "C'mon man," he pleaded.

Sam shook his head, smiling lightly. He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow-I guess." He smiled at Jo. "And it's _amazing_ to see you, Jo. You need to tell me more about why I can when you and Dean are.. Done."

Sam caught Dean's eyes and laughed. They he turned and left.

Dean turned to Jo, whose handshad found their way onto her hips. He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, feeling particularly selfish."

Jo bit down a smile. "Mmhm." 


	6. Alone for the Night

Jo's browneyes were piecing, her eyebrows raised high on her head. Dean bit his lip, pretty sure that he'd made the wrong choice but not able to force himself to feel guilty. The fact that she was back while everyone else she knew had died meant she'dbe  
with Dean and Sam a lot more. That would make it too impossible to keep his feelings down. So he mine as tell her now and let her take as she would. He wouldn't try and force herinto anything, of course! Except understanding if shedidn't need  
any more than that. He just need to make sure she _knew._

"Well?" 

Dean startled at Jo's voice, snapping his attention out of his thoughts. Her hands were still on her hips, and he was worried her eyebrows were glued to the top of her crinkled forehead. "Well what?"

Jo rolled her doe eyes. "What do you need to say to me?"

"Oh right." Suddenly, Dean didn't feel so brave. "Are-are you hungry."

She was so unconvinced it was pitiful. "What, you wanna finally take out to dinner eight years after I asked?"

Dean opened his mouth. Shut it again. What had he been thinking? He'd never formed a smooth, romantic sentence in his life. He was blunt and to the point and harsh and _not_ good with words. There wasno way he could swoon her with the  
did he want to do anyway? Sleep with her? That thought actually revolted him. It would feel like he was taking advantage of her.

 _Why are you thinking about this, idiot? She doesn't even know how you feel._

"My hell," Jo muttered, catching Dean's attention again. When she noticed, she took a step closer, looking a little mad now. "Cat got your tongue? I can't get _anything_ out of you tonight."

"Sorry if I'm - a little tongue-tied, you did just get back from _hell,"_ Dean finally got out. His chest was on fire, heart hammering against his ribs.

Jo's face softened a bit, her hands dropping from her hip. "I know. It's got to be... Crazy for you. It was for me when you came back, and I didn't show up at your door unannounced."

Dean looked down. "Yeah. It's kind of hard to wrap my head around. I mean... I've been dreaming of this for years so seeing you actually here-" he touched her shoulders- "and touchable feels more like fiction than reality."

Her face had grown serious with his touch. "You-thought of me? While I was down there?"

"Of course. I couldn't get you out of my mind," Dean admitted. Some of his long-lost courage was finally returning. He caught her gaze, slowly running his hands down her arms. "Jo, I think I'm-"

"Don't." Jo looked away, stepping out his hands. Dean's eyes widened with horror. "Don't say it. Not right now."

"Why? I thought you cared about me, too..?" Maybe he'd been delusional. After all, who would love a man like him?

"Because it's the guilt talking!" Jo exclaimed,running her thin fingers through her wavy hair.

He looked at her, completely confused, until his brain processed it again and he frowned. "You-you think I'm telling you because I feel _guilty_?"

Jo gave him her _look_ that answered the question. And that made Dean a little bit angry.

"Jo, I love you," he professed. He stepped towards her, and though she didn't walk away, she didn't seem very happy he was closer. "I love you." His voice dropped as he took another step in her direction. "Don't you see that?"

Jo shook her head, finally pacing back. Her eyes had a new light in them. Frustration, maybe. "You think it's my fault you died, and so over the years you've dreamed up this love but it's going to evaporate: ina week or a monthor whenever  
it sets in that I'm back, and you'll realize that you aren't in love with me at all."

Now Dean shook his own head. "I don't feel guilty-well, okay, of course I feel guilty, but that's-"

Jo didn't let him finish. She marched right up to him until they were chest to chest, nose to nose, breathing in each other's air, so close but not touching. It sapped the words right out of his focused on his eyes, and he tensed under  
her scrutinizing gaze, catching his breath.

"Dean." She said his name with so much emotion it made his head spin. She made sure she had hisfull attention, boring into his soul with those chocolate eyesbefore continuing. "I need you to forget about the guilt. I need you to STOP with  
it, becauseI'm _here_ , I'm alive, and I'm _fine_."

Her words hit him at full force and he felt the sting of tears gather in his eyes. She was there. Alive.

She went on. "I'm fine up here, too." She pointed to her head, careful not to touch him, even though his whole body yearned for her. "I mean, I have some nightmares, but who wouldn't?" Jo shrugged. "It comes with the job. So stop with the damn guilt."

Dean finally broke eye contact, no longer able to withstand her searing stare. "It's not that easy."

"It is that easy,dammit!" she exploded, pushing on his chest. He stumble back, then looked up at her, baffled. "It wasn't your fault, you understand? And if you insist it was one more time I swear to God almighty I'll walk out of this room."

She glared at him. Pain lanced through Dean's chest, but somewhere deep in his brain, that part that the Mark of Cain had accessed, clicked on. It really wasn't his fault. He'd tried as friggin hard as he could to save her. It wasn't his fault.

Jo must've been able to see the change in his face, because she shifted her stance and started again. "Now,look me in the eye Dean, without that guilt. Like I'd never died. Look at me and tell me that if we were standing here, and I'd never died,you  
would say you loved me like you are now."

Dean creased his forehead, looking down into her eyes. What was he supposed to do now? If he told her thetruth, she'd walk. But he couldn't very well lie to her. He'd done thatfor too long. So he'd Just have to expain, no matter how patheticand  
cowardly it sounded. He held her gaze steady, and confessed, "No, I wouldn't."

Her eyes shot towards the ceiling and she turnedaway from him, but he grabbed her small wrist and pulled her against him. Theirbodies collided, momentarily distracting Dean as herbody heat seeped into him, her chest rising and fallingagainst  
his. Shegasped and glared up at him, but he refused to let her intimidate him any longer. He glowered down at her, their gazes warring against each other. He Beganexplaining his answer. "Because I would've talkedmyself out of it,  
like I almost have a thousand times tonight. I would've told myself there was another time,that you'd find someonebetter because I'm no good for you. I would've been too scared. But Jo, there is absolutely no promiseof tomorrow, of the  
next hour, of anything but right now, this exactsecond. And I know that now, more than I would've had you not died.I Have beenin love with you for so long. For over a year before you died, and it never went away.I am desperately  
inlove with you."

Jo's dark eyes widened, searching his eyes for any sign of deceit. She wouldn't find any. He tried to seephis emotions into the look he was giving her, all the love and loss and grief and joy of her return agonizingseconds  
of silence, Jo shot to her toes and kissed him.


End file.
